#me: squints

EVERY TIME he wanted to sleep in his office, he couldn’t. That dumb, random ass alarm.... 

               ❝ you know you don’t actually live here, right? ❞ called from where she has curled up beneath a blanket on the couch. tone light and teasing, she lifts herself from her seat with a laugh, bringing her cover with her. it is not as if he has his own key, or anything. of course there is not a collection of too-big shoes sat next to her own, or a pile of shirts tucked neatly into the top drawer of her dresser. and certainly there is no faint hint of vanilla lingering in the bathroom, the bedroom, the den. no heady and familiar scent to remind her on occasion who she is missing when she is alone. 

               audrey steps into the foyer, leans against the archway until chad has removed his coat and hung it on its spot in the closet ( right next to that leather jacket donned when he is feeling particularly edgy ). he turns, and she pulls him into the warmth of her blanket. rising to the tips of her toes, a kiss is pressed to lips cooled by the evening air. goosebumps raise where he touches her neck with fingers that are freezing and hot all at once. a shiver ripples down her spine, and she hums.

               ❝ —– but you should. ❞ a thought spilled from her mouth onto his before an end can be put to it. but — blunt as it may seem — she does not mind. instead, she kisses him again before lowering back onto her heels and studying his face. ❝ move in with me. ❞